


According to Plan

by kirargent



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Case Fic, Community: femslash_kink, Competence Kink, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirargent/pseuds/kirargent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don't think this was part of your <i>plan</i> for the evening,” Bela says, voice infuriatingly cool, “so tell me now if you'd like me to stop.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	According to Plan

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt](http://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/15813.html?thread=2339781) for the femslash kink meme! I've never done one of these before :o

The delicate lavender of Bela's curve-hugging evening gown is splattered with wet red, her curled hair is coming loose in messy strands, and she's bleeding from a scrape where her calf caught a branch somewhere along the chase through the dusk-dark woods, but Jo stares at her and all she can think is: _Jesus fuck_.

“You just—” she says, gesturing vaguely at the vamp lying on the ground at Bela's daintily-heeled feet. “—With a steak knife.”

Great, Jo. Way to talk in complete sentences.

Bela lifts a single eyebrow. She pulls a handkerchief from her clutch, and first of all, how did she manage not to drop the damn thing while chasing the vamp, and second of all, who carries a handkerchief anymore?

Wiping the knife clean, staining the pretty white of the handkerchief a violent red, she says absently, “I may prefer guns, but that certainly doesn't mean I'm incapable of fighting with only the resources currently available to me. If we're at a dinner party when things go awry, well...” she trails off, shrugging a thin shoulder. She folds the cloth back into her clutch and looks up at Jo, her smile as sharp as the blade's edge.

Jo swallows. “Uh,” she says, hating furiously that Bela so easily knocks her off her game. “Well, still. That wasn't the plan. You're supposed to follow the plan.”

Both of Bela's eyebrows rise this time. “Oh?” she says, voice high and delicate. She takes a step closer to Jo. “I'm sorry, but isn't the vampire dead? I thought the plan was: 'dead vampire'.”

Jo opens her mouth—then closes it. “I mean, I guess it worked out all right,” she admits. “But still. You were supposed to let me handle it, distract everyone else.”

Bela shrugs. She steps closer, and now they're only a few feet apart. A tremble skitters up Jo's spine; it's freaking cold out here, and she's only in a stupid little black dress, but she knows that's not at all why she shivers.

“So sorry,” Bela coos. “I'll let you take care of everything next time, princess.”

Jo makes a noise of frustration low in her throat, curling her hand into a fist. She leaps forward, closing the gap between herself and Bela in two long strides. Her hand grips Bela's wrist; she squeezes, and Bela drops the knife to the ground.

She spins them, avoiding the vampire's body. There's a tree a few feet away, and Jo is _pissed_ , and she likes the idea of Bela's back against the trunk.

And then—and then she's not steering them anymore. Bela hooks her ankle with a small foot, pulls her balance forward, sidesteps. Jo finds herself walked backward until she hits the rough bark of a tree. Bela comes closer, sliding a leg between Jo's legs. And oh, hell. Heat shoots through Jo's stomach, coiling between her legs. Her veins tingle with electricity, her breath coming a little too quick.

Bela's smile curls up viciously; she leans her weight into the leg between Jo's thighs, pressing against her pussy through her flimsy dress.

“I don't think this was part of your _plan_ for the evening,” Bela says, voice infuriatingly cool, “so tell me now if you'd like me to stop.”

Jesus _christ_.

Bela grinds her thigh a little harder between Jo's legs, and Jo sucks in a breath.

“I—You're so—Ugh, _don't stop_ ,” Jo whines, wishing she didn't sound so freaking pathetic.

“Are you sure, sweetheart?” Bela asks, adopting an air of concern.

“Fuck,” Jo mumbles, and pushes herself away from the tree as hard as she can, gripping Bela by the wrists and reversing their positions. “If I say the new plan is for you to fuck me, do you think you can manage, or are you really so unable to follow the rules?” she demands.

Bela laughs, but her eyes are a little darker and her voice is a little higher. Good.

“I... suppose I can manage that,” she says, her mouth a tiny smirk.

“All right, _good_ ,” Jo says decisively, and leans in to kiss her, hard.

 


End file.
